


The Summer House

by packalpha



Category: Supernatural
Genre: AU, Alternate Universe - Human, Bi!Dean, Bi-Curious Dean Winchester, DeanCas - Freeform, Destiel - Freeform, It gets dark, M/M, SPN - Freeform, Slow Burn, Writer!Castiel, a raccoom idfk, and that's a promise, casdean - Freeform, i'm new and i don't know how to tag this, mechanic!Dean, there's some cute moments but it all amounts to pain
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-12-08
Updated: 2020-12-11
Packaged: 2021-03-10 00:08:00
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 7,371
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27955148
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/packalpha/pseuds/packalpha
Summary: Cas is struggling to keep his almost-career afloat. Finally admitting some defeat, he flies out from Los Angeles to his parents’ lake house in Seattle in a desperate attempt to find some inspiration. However, the only thing Castiel finds is a whole lot of nature and the lone house across the lake where Dean Winchester seems keen on keeping to himself. Little does Cas know that Dean will show him the joys and tragedies of life that his LA apartment kept him sheltered from.
Relationships: Cas/Dean - Relationship, CasDean, Castiel & Dean Winchester, Castiel/Dean, Castiel/Dean Winchester, Dean/Cas, Dean/Castiel, DeanCas, Destiel
Kudos: 9





	1. When Everything You Have Is On Your Back

“ _Oh_. This is a _mistake_.”

Castiel eyed the wooden house in front of him warily as he slammed the trunk shut. Though it was a grand three stories high it looked weathered enough to tip over at even the suggestion of a breeze.

What Castiel remembered to be a rich red house from his childhood had turned into a ramshackle stack of splinters with a garnishing of weeds - it was no wonder his parents never returned to the damned thing.

Cas ran a hand through his inky hair, tempted to get back into his rental and run every stoplight back to the airport. He pivoted to the quiet road he just drove off from, gauging the long drive back into civilization, before picking up his equally worn out luggage with a resigned sigh.

The only thing that kept Cas committed to the horror in front of him was that a change of scenery could be just the thing to help jump-start his lacklustre career. Though, after sales on his last novel - which he thought would be a definite crowd pleaser – it looked like lacklustre was the best he could hope for now.

That, and maybe some confirmation that his tetanus boosters were up to date.

-x-

It took only an hour for Castiel to unpack his things into his parents' lakehouse, and after that hour he was ready to pack them back up and book the next flight out.

Two freakishly large centipedes, his foot going through four floorboards, and a nauseating tangle of cobwebs later, and Castiel had dropped enough F bombs to make his late mother turn in her grave.

“Are you kidding me?!” Cas shouted as his foot went through yet another floorboard, ramming face-first onto the floor. He felt a sheet of dust mould to his cheek. “Are you fucking kidding me!?”

The cellphone in his back pocket began to vibrate and he furiously fished it out, still facedown and defeated.

“ _Hello?_ ”

“Cas!” Anna. He groaned internally at his sister’s endless enthusiasm. “How was the trip?”

“Super,” Castiel answered dryly, getting up and dusting himself off. His feet moved to the french doors that lead to the small backyard and dock. “I don’t know why you didn’t let me move here sooner.”

“You know, I think I left a meatloaf in the fridge the last time we were there,” Anna mused thoughtfully, and Cas cringed at the thought of having to deal with that later. “If you get hungry –“

“Anna, the last time we were here was when we were in highschool; I'm almost 30.”

Anna continued, spirits undeterred, and after reassuring her that he had arrived in one piece and _no, he would not like to stay with her instead thank you very much_ , Castiel hung up and surveyed the living room.

He yelped, gravelly voice cracking, blue eyes landing on the corner five feet away.

After the initial shock, he pushed open the double doors and inched backwards.

"Uh, sir?" Castiel uttered uncertainly, eyeing the raccoon that was leisurely making its way across the living room floor. He watched it knead tiny paw prints in the debris, squinting momentarily out at the shimmering lake before turning his attention back to the little intruder at his feet.

"I think you should go outside," Castiel suggested conversationally. "You know, _where you belong_? Pretty sure it’s better than squatting in this fire hazard."

The raccoon flicked its tail before hobbling out towards the bushes lining the yard. Castiel stepped out onto the middle of the back patio and closed his eyes, taking in the sun as its warm rays rained down on his face.

A faint crash in the distance shook Cas from his reverie and he peered across the lake to the only other house for miles.

It wasn't unlike the one he was occupying. In fact, the only difference was that the greenery surrounding it was in much tamer conditions.

Cas watched as a boy dragged three overstuffed garbage bags out the side of the house, his stocky frame struggling to keep the bags at arms length while carrying their weight. He swore as one ripped open, its contents spilling onto the ground. From what Cas could make out, they looked like diapers.

The boy tugged angrily at his sandy blonde locks before putting his hands on the red plaid shirt tied around his hips. A scowl settled on his full lips, brows arched and eyes sharp as he looked out to the water.

Eventually he heaved a heavy sigh and turned back to the mess, lips pulled back into a grimace.

Cas let out a chuckle at the scene.

What Castiel forgot was that the quietest sounds traveled across the open lake. He froze as he heard his own laughter echo in the space between them, the heat of embarrassment warming his face when the head of tousled hair suddenly snapped to his direction.

Cas lowered his hand from above his eyes and waved uncertainly, offering an uneasy smile.

The boy merely stared back before turning around and trudging back into the house, slamming the door shut behind him.


	2. Northern Downpour Sends Its Love

“Move!” Cas pleaded, shoving against the dresser with all the strength he could muster. A drop of sweat broke from his temple and ran down the edge of his jaw. He grunted as he pushed forward again, feet digging into the hardwood. “You son of a bitch— !”

Castiel’s back foot slipped and he fell onto his knees, panting and cursing as he took in the tingling in his arms and fingers. He leaned back against the dresser and looked across the room.

“Yeah, I like the dresser better here too anyway,” Cas conceded, addressing the raccoon that had found its way back into the house. He groaned in defeat and laid down on the newly swept floor, pressing his cheek on its cool surface. His black hair clung to his face and neck as he waited for his heartrate to subside.

Castiel didn’t think moving to Seattle for the summer would mean cleaning up the mess his family had left behind years ago. He also didn’t think that moving to Seattle meant even less time to write. It had already been a week and not only was he about ready to go on a wildlife massacre, but Cas was pretty sure his publishers would give him the ax if he came back to L.A. with no novel to hand over.

Cas glanced out the window and bit his lip as the house across the lake came into view.

After the incident with the sandy-haired boy, Castiel was too shy to step out onto the back patio or venture towards the dock. Instead, Cas caught glimpses of him driving away from the house everyday in a Chevy Impala, always returning with a trunk full of boxes and grocery bags.

Sometimes Cas would catch him sitting at the edge of the dock in the afternoons or evenings, staring at the house Cas was so desperately trying to clean up on the inside. Sometimes Castiel wondered if the boy could see him – if he was watching Cas like Cas sometimes watched him. But Castiel quickly figured that he was simply staring out leisurely at the lake between them, and went back to sweeping up the layer of dust that had accumulated on the floor.

Sometimes Castiel had to remind himself to stop being such a fucking stalker.

But today seemed to be a day Cas wouldn’t be able to avoid going out to the patio. The raccoon that was slowly becoming his CastAway buddy Wilson for the past week waddled down the stairs, forcing Cas to follow along just to ensure it wouldn’t rip at any of the cushions. Again.

He achingly trailed after it, coming to a stop when it started pawing at the double doors leading to the water. Cas pushed them open and watched as it hobbled back into the bushes it disappeared into the first time.

Castiel normally would have gone back inside but the sun was too inviting, the air seemingly lighter and crisper around the lake. The breeze hit his tired arms and Cas couldn’t help but smile at how soothing it was to be surrounded by more than just stale air and cobwebs.

His feet carried him to the edge of the dock where he sat and dipped his overheated soles. Droplets of water jumped up onto the throbbing skin of his legs and Cas sighed in content; this was the reward he was looking for all day.

Once again Castiel’s reverie was interrupted by a squeak of hinges that rang from across the water; Cas’ eyes snapped up andhe immediately remembered why he had avoided venturing outside.

Cas sat still, hoping the sandy-haired boy wouldn’t realize he was present.

The boy walked out of the house swiftly, face covered by one of his hands, shoulders slumping as soon as he made contact with the white boards that made up the side of his lake house. The part of his face that Cas could see was twisted in what looked like despair, voice raspy as he mumbled staccato streams to himself. Cas’ ears only caught the occasional curse.

Never had Castiel been so uncomfortable and out of place in his whole life. Cas’ back was arching, tensed to spring back into the house. The water was suddenly numbing to his toes but Cas couldn’t find the courage to move.

It was obvious that Castiel’s presence hadn’t registered as Castiel watched the boy growl in frustration and kick the side of the lake house. His hand fell from his face and Cas could see his boyish features contorted in agony; his fists pounded angrily on the house, only pausing when he seemed to catch a splinter.

The boy was panting and biting his full lower lip, hastily shaking the feeling out of his hand before wiping them on the plaid shirt wrapped around his waist. His pained eyes scanned the water and his delicate features began to clear, squinted eyes and sloped eyebrows unraveling to reveal bright green eyes.

Then they rested on Castiel and Castiel resisted the impulse to scoot forward and drop himself straight into the lake.

A few dozen heartbeats passed.

“Have—” the boy broke off, clearing his throat, and looked around, scratching the back of his neck. “Have you been there the whole time?” he asked, voice deeply raspy. It was startling, and upon closer inspection, he didn’t look like the teenage boy Castiel dumbly assumed he was.

Cas’ blue eyes widened and he stammered out an answer that sounded more like a question of permission. “Um, yes…?”

The blonde paused and licked his lips. Castiel waited for him to start yelling. Maybe even swinging.

“Sorry about that,” he offered, crossing his arms over his chest and uneasily shifting from one foot to the other. “I must've scared the hell out of you, man.”

“It’s okay,” Castiel uttered, hamming up a shrug to compensate for his natural lack of inflections. “I barely noticed.”

The stranger smiled sheepishly at Cas and walked to the edge of his dock, extending his hand. He clutched the edge of the dock and stretched as far as his lean body could go. “I’m Dean.”

“Castiel,” Cas nodded, leaning forward and wrapping his fingers around Dean’s calloused palm.

“Castiel, huh? Haven’t heard that one before.”

“It’s an angel of the lord,” Cas deadpanned, going through the routine of defending this name to new acquaintances. “It’s the angel of Th--”

“Yikes, my condolences, man,” Dean laughed, raising his hands. “I just meant it’s uncommon. I didn’ mean anything by it.”

Cas paused, pleasantly surprised that he didn’t have to run through the whole speech for the umpteenth time. Strangers typically made a whole deal of his odd name and having to defend it with each new interaction was the curse Castiel's religion-loving parents had unwittingly bestowed on him. 

But the relief wore away quickly as he watched Dean’s brow furrow. “You’re the one who laughed when I dropped the garbage last week, right?”

The heat flooded Castiel’s face for the second time that week. _Lord in heaven, if you do exist, prove it and strike me down right at this moment. Amen._

“Um, no.” Cas lied, nervously swinging his legs back and forth in the water. “That must have been my brother.”

"Huh." Dean looked around as if expecting some nonexistent second neighbour to materialize – perhaps looking for any signs of Castiel’s nonexistent brother.

“Well, I’m gonna head back inside,” Dean declared, patting the edge of the dock before straightening up. “Nice meeting you, Cas.”

Castiel got up from his spot, nervously wiping the sweat on his palms onto the sides of his slacks. “You, too, Dean.”

With a small smile, Dean marched back to the back door and into his lake house, waving briefly to Cas before he shut the screen door and disappeared inside.

Castiel let out the breath he didn’t realize he was holding before going back to the ruins of his family’s old lake house.

-x-

Two days after Castiel’s awkward encounter with Dean, Cas found himself behind his typewriter, watching the rain turn the window panes into liquid glass. He noted how the surface of the lake jumped up as raindrop after raindrop fell into it, breaking its smooth sheet. Castiel noted the clouds looking overstuffed and overcast, and the way the trees surrounding the area were gracefully bowed to the direction of the hurdling, shrieking wind.

And, still, the paper in front of Castiel stayed blank.

Perhaps, Castiel thought, going back to L.A. will do more good. He would be closer to the publishers and editors and he could hire an assistant to take care of his personal pains, like keeping up with laundry loads or phoning his sister. He would be in the comfort of his own apartment with his own dog, Miracle, and not Wilson, the questionably rabies-infested raccoon. If Castiel packed up and went back to L.A., he wouldn’t be one of two people who inhabited a deserted area perfect for a Seattle Chainsaw Massacre.

 _Perhaps,_ Castiel thought, _I’m just a quitter._

Castiel blinked when he caught a figure out in the storm exiting their vehicle and pulling the trunk open, hauling out grocery bags into the house in front of him. Of course, it would be none other than Dean, clad in only a khaki green jacket and jeans.

What was so important about grocery shopping that he couldn’t skip it for a day was beyond Cas, but he observed Dean as his sturdy frame ran back and forth in the horrid weather, occasionally slipping in the forming mud but immediately regaining balance.

Thunder crackled overhead and Castiel knew he would have to help Dean if he valued his neighbor’s life in the slightest. Cas frowned and pushed off from his desk, avoiding a hole he had made in the floorboard the day before and grabbing his trenchcoat off the back of the couch. It wasn’t long before Castiel had made it around the lake to where Dean continued to unload bags and boxes.

“Here, let me help you,” Castiel shouted, hoping his gravelly voice carried over the crack of thunder. The wind picked up and it looked like both of them were on the brink of being hurtled away.

“Are you nuts?” Dean shouted back, knocking Cas’ hands away from his cargo. “Get back inside!”

“Don’t be stupid,” Castiel countered, knocking Dean’s shaking hands out of the way and heaving two bags out. Cas sprinted to the open front door and placed them beside the other white bags Dean had managed to carry in.

Ten long minutes later and Castiel’s hands were freezing, but everything was successfully unloaded into the house. He braced himself to start the run back to his side of the lake when Dean grabbed his soaking wrist. “Don’t _you_ be stupid,” Dean yelled, tugging Castiel towards his front door. “Get inside until the storm’s over!”

Castiel let Dean fling him into the foyer before tackling the door closed. He watched as Dean leaned against the door frame and slid down, leaving a water trail on the door from his soaked back.

Dean’s chest heaved as he eyed Castiel’s shivering form standing awkwardly in the middle of the room.

“So we meet again,” Dean chuckled.

Castiel smiled halfheartedly and shifted his weight from one foot to the other. “So it seems.”

A silence fell on them.

“Dean?”

“Hm?” he grunted, running his hand through his soaking hair. Cas noted he was more of a brunette with wet hair.

“Um, is there somewhere I can stand where I won’t ruin your flooring?”

Dean shook his head, smiling. “It’s fine. You can take your coat off and hang it here.”

He pointed to a line of hooks on the wall beside him that Castiel quickly moved towards, peeling his trenchcoat off as he went. As Cas turned to make his way back to his awkward spot in the foyer, Dean grabbed his leg.

“Thanks for helping me out there,” Dean mumbled, staring at the ground. “Not many people do.”

“Not many people are around here.” Castiel placed a hand on his shoulder. “There’s no need to thank me, Dean.”

Dean nodded and got up, offering Cas a lopsided grin before grabbing some of the bags they had hauled in. “So…”

“Kitchen?” Cas suggested, offering his assistance once again.

Dean nodded and waited as Cas hefted two boxes beforeleading him deeper into the house.


	3. Other Plans Fell Through & Put A Heavy Load On You, I Know

“So you live alone?”

Cupboards bumped open and closed Castiel helped Dean stock his kitchen. It had been half an hour since they had begun and the battle cry of wind and thunder didn’t sound like it was going to settle anytime soon.

“Yes,” Castiel answered, pulling out a box of Cookie Crunch cereal from one of the bags. “I flew over from LA. It’s my parents’ lake house; I’m just borrowing it for the summer.”

“So it _was_ you who laughed when I dropped the garbage,” Dean exposed casually, casting Cas a withering look.

Castiel froze, face hot. “About that…”

“I’m just screwing with you,” Dean laughed. His bright green eyes crinkled at the corners as he took in Castiel’s awkwardness. “I knew it was you when I asked before, man. It’s not a big deal.”

Cas’ face felt like he was going to burst into flames, and at that moment he really hoped he would. Before anything remotely intelligent could form on his lips, Dean proceeded with the questions he had been bombarding Castiel with since they started unpacking the groceries.

“So why’d you pick this place? It’s practically the middle of nowhere.”

It was still hard to look at Dean. Castiel made a point of focusing on the products he was unpacking, keeping his back turned and face hidden until the shock of embarrassment could completely wear off. His shoulders rolled as he pulled out a jar of carrot flavoured baby food; Castiel could feel his eyebrows rise as he set the jar down on the counter and continued unloading the rest of the bag.

“I have a bad case of writer's block right now. I’m a writer…or kind of one. I thought the change of scenery would help.”

“You’re lucky,” Dean mused, bunching up an empty grocery bag. He seemed to take no notice to Castiel’s reaction to the things he’d bought, or he just didn't care. “You can just up and leave when you want to. Live your life the way you want. I wish I could do that.”

Castiel paused and glanced over at Dean, watching him peel back the plastic wrapped around an unmarked cylinder. “What's stopping you?”

As Dean mulled over his answer, Cas pulled out a rather large box from the bag and immediately wished he hadn’t.

In Castiel's hands was a box of adult diapers. He eyed Dean discreetly, deciding he didn’t seem like he needed help holding it in, and concluded that he must have a gargantuan baby stashed somewhere in the lake house. Castiel snuck a once over of him one more time before setting the box on the floor.

 _Everyone has their thing_ , Castiel shrugged to himself.

“I could if I really wanted to,” Dean answered cautiously, pulling Cas back into the conversation as he unloaded more baby food into one of the cupboards. Castiel picked up the ones he had already unpacked and rounded the counter to put them in their proper place.

Dean turned abruptly, trapping Castiel between himself and the counter.

“Sorry!” Dean exclaimed quickly, stepping aside and rubbing at the back of his neck. “I didn’t know you were there.”

"It's fine, Dean." Castiel motioned for him to go on.

Dean offered a flash of a lopsided grin but kept his cautious tone as he continued. “I know I don’t really look it but I’m 26 and, yeah, typically I'd be running the roads free as a bird. But I’ve got some commitments I’m tied down to.”

“Wife and kids?” Castiel assumed, looking around for any sign of them. So far, the house had been quiet except for the two of them. If Dean hadn’t revealed that he wasn’t alone in the house Castiel would have assumed he was; he was the only other body he ever saw around the lake.

“Wife?" Dean laughed a startlingly melodic howl. " _Kids?_ No, _no_ , nothing like _that_.” Cas caught Dean examining him from the corner of his eye, brows bent low. “I’m here with my Mom and Sam.”

“Ah.”

“Yeah, I bought this place for my Mom to help her ease into things. They’re both on the third floor right now, napping, I think,” he tacked on thoughtfully.

“Ease into things? Is your mother sick or something?”

“Yeah. Yeah, something like that.”

It was an unspoken understanding that there would be inevitable tragedy ahead, but Castiel felt obligated to keep the conversation light. ”So…you’re from somewhere in state then?”

Dean shook his head and ruffled his already messy hair. “We’re from Kansas. Lawrence. I know it’s a huge move for a lake house but I figured it would be nice to grant my Mom one of her wishes before she…y’know.”

Dean paused, visibly upset at the acknowledgement. He ran a hand through his hair again and tugged at a handful near the front. “She always wanted to live in one of these places so I bought her this one in April. It was the most affordable one I could find - I don’t have a lot of money and I’m no connoisseur of fancy houses but this is a pretty decent place, I think.”

Another wave of silence blanketed them as they stacked jars upon jars of baby food in the cupboards. Dean sighed, his breath raising the hair on the back of Cas’ neck.

“Do you miss Lawrence?” Castiel asked.

Dean threw him a tight smile. “Well, yeah. It’s been, like, five months since we’ve moved here. I rarely saw my friends when I was there because of conflicting work schedules and all. Still, we had some time to get together every other week or so, so I dunno, yeah, it’s different here I guess. It's tough not to think about what's back there, y'know?”

Castiel’s head bobbed along at appropriate intervals as he moved on to filling the fridge with fresh vegetables and drinks. Dean continued on, and at some points Castiel wondered if he had forgotten Cas’ presence and was simply talking to himself.

Dean seemed to recite the information in a way that sounded as if he was trying hard to remember old faces and the personalities behind them.“Chuck’s in publishing and Benny runs his own restaurant, but on his free time he freelances as a photographer for stuff like bands’ CD inserts and writers for book jackets and stuff. Dude’s awesome.”

There was an abrupt silence that caused Castiel’s head to snap up from behind the fridge door. He ran over what Dean said in his head, anxious he had missed a social cue - he'd gotten better over the years but he still missed those quite often.

After a minute of watching Dean stare at a packet of tofu and chew over his bottom lip, the smooth bass of Dean’s voice broke the silence. “Crowley is kind of in between jobs but right now he’s interning at one of those corporation-y type places, and Jo runs this kind of hippie, spiritual store that sells candles and incense – that kind of thing.”

Castiel arched a brow but nodded anyway, bending down to fill the bottom half of the fridge. He waited for Dean to continue but when he didn’t Cas took it upon himself to push the conversation along.

“That’s a lot of people to miss, Dean.”

Cas was met with a soft, noncommittal hum.

“What about you?” Castiel pressed, taking care not to crush a tomato behind a bottle of hot sauce.

“Me?”

“You talk about other people a lot but you haven’t said much about yourself.”

“Oh.” Dean looked surprised and a little dismayed to have the spotlight zeroed in on him. “I’m nothing special -- I’m at the bottom of the barrel in our group back in Lawrence,” he shrugged, bunching up the last plastic bag and tossing it in a bin under the kitchen sink. Dean leaned his hip against the back counter, crossing his arms over his chest as he watched Castiel pack the last of the groceries in the fridge. “I’m a mechanic. Or was a mechanic. I technically took a year off to be here for this so right now I’m not really anything.”

“Being a mechanic isn’t the bottom of the barrel,” Castiel frowned. “To be honest – and no offense – that incense place sounds more illegitimate to me.”

Dean chuckled and shook his head but didn’t comment.

“Well, it takes a lot of strength to give up your life at a drop of a hat to take care of your mother,” Castiel declared, pushing a carton of milk to the back of the fridge before nudging the door shut. “But I guess it’s a little easier since you have Sam.”

So quiet were Dean’s next words that Castiel would have wondered if he actually said anything if it weren’t for the upsetting twist of his face. “Being isolated out here - I don’t know if its strength or insanity.”

Anna had always told Castiel that his eyes gave him away. It bothered Cas when they were young but in that moment Castiel couldn't help fixing Dean with the most sympathy his expressive eyes could convey.

“Y’know, you’ve been quiet this whole time about yourself too,” Dean noted suddenly.

“Sorry,” Cas offered.

“Don’t apologize, man; give me the run down.”

“There’s not much to tell,” Castiel admitted, leaning on theisland counter opposite Dean. “I think I covered the basics already.”

“Basics. Right. But don’t you have people in LA? A life you want to get back to?”

“No, I’m not really attached to anyone. It’s hard to be - most people are usually just out there to climb the social ladder and I'm not good with angling social exchanges to my advantage. Or having social exchanges in general. It’s hard to have faith in anyone to stick around,” Cas shrugged. He glanced out the ceiling-to-floor window in the adjoining dining room and wasn’t sure whether he should have been disappointed that the weather had steadied into calmer showers.

“Storm’s let up,” Dean pointed out, startling Cas with his unexpected proximity. Castiel turned around and sheepishly lifted a corner of his mouth.

“I should probably go. Those pages won’t throw themselves in the trash.”

Cas smiled at the sound of Dean’s light laughter. “Alright.”

They made their way back into the foyer and Castiel grabbed his trenchcoat off the hook on the wall. It surprised him when he saw Dean doing the same with his still-wet khaki jacket, but he didn’t question it when he found Dean beaming at him.

The walk back around the lake was quiet, the two of them getting pelted with streams of water. Castiel fought the urge to tell Dean to stay inside, but he could just tell that Dean wasn’t the type of person to let a lot of things stop him.

Cas pushed the key into the back door lock and turned to Dean to wave him off. “Thank you for letting me stay over through the storm. And for walking with me over here.”

“Don’t mention it.” Dean looked back towards his lake house for a moment before grinning back at Cas. “Guess I’ll see you around.”

“Yes, I guess so.”

“Good luck with your writing, Cas.”

With that, Dean made his way back to his side of the lake, turning to wave at Castiel one last time before heading inside.

-x-

3AM and Castiel was wide awake, glaring down with his typewriter.

He contemplated writing an overdone story on purpose with a generic plotline and cliché protagonist in an attempt to buy some time, but concluded that a move like that would only get him into more trouble. His publisher knew Cas to have a bout of writers block, not a bout of stupidity. Insisting on spending the summer out in the middle of nowhere and then returning with a flatlinenovel would be beyond unacceptable - they would probably find a way to sue Castiel for a shit job.

He leaned his elbows onto his desk and dug his hands into his hair, groaning at the windowpanes that held nothing but an empty night. Even the brilliantly clear glow of the moon failed to inspire, though Castiel was sure it would have surely impressed better writers.

He groaned again at the acknowledgement of the grave he was stuck in.

Castiel shot a bitter glare out the window, but his features instantly fell away when he noticed some of the lights in Dean’s lake house suddenly flicker on, casting yellow light into the stretch of water between them.

The first floor was doused in darkness so it was easy to spot Dean tiredly dragging himself around the second floor, clad in light blue pyjama pants and a grey t-shirt. A white bundle sat in his hands along with a jar of baby food. Castiel squinted, leaning closer towards the window when Dean disappeared from view as he ascended the stairs.

Cas’ eyes swept the third row of lit windows frantically. He barely realized that he was holding his breath until Dean reappeared, and Cas exhaled in awe.

Dean was kneeling on the floor beside a bed, only the upper half his body visible. Castiel couldn’t see who he was kneeling to, but he could only assume it was his mother. There was a tired smile on Dean’s face that somehow hurt Cas to look at.

But he couldn’t tear his eyes away. Castiel watched Dean patiently dip a spoon in the tiny jar of baby food and gently nudge it forward, the painfully exhausted smile still on his lips.

Cas must have watched Dean take care of mother for hours, sighing in sympathy when he made several trips downstairs to grab more jars to feed her.

Castiel turned away when Dean headed for the foot of the bed and unfolded the diaper he had brought with him.

All the while, Castiel didn’t notice the moon sink back behind its bed under the horizon and the sun slowly crawl its way back to the sky. The clouds were reappearing in wisps of pink, decorating the heavens that were already stained orange and lavender. His eyelids weighed heavy when Castiel realized just how much of a creepy neighbor he had been all night and ditched his seat at the window, crawling over to the couch to collapse into an uneasy sleep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I meant Jo as in Anael / Sister Jo, but if you prefer to imagine Jo Harvelle as a hippy-dippy essential oils sales woman then go off lmao. 
> 
> Big thank you to everyone who has given this fic a chance so far <3 Feels good to be back into writing and I already miss SPN :'(


	4. Scarecrow, Now It's Time To Hatch

“Hey, Cas? Not to get between you and your pimpmobile but do you wanna ride with me instead? I’ve been told carpooling is a lot better for the environment.”

Castiel looked up from his rental Lincoln Continental to Dean, who sat in a his Chevy Impala a couple meters away. He leaned over the passenger seat, an uncertain smile on his face.

Castiel had been staring at his rental, gripping the driver’s side door handle, half wondering if the 45 minute drive to town to stock the kitchen would be worth it and half wondering if the muted mustard beige paint job was tacky or cool - Dean had clearly answered that second internal debate.

“Baby’s not as … _fancy_ … as your Lincoln but, y’know, save the world, save some gas,” Dean added, offering another hesitant grin.

Castiel’s full lips curved upwards, amused by his failing sense of humor. “You don’t mind?”

“If I did, I wouldn’t be offering,” Dean pointed out, smiling wider until the corners of his eyes crinkled. “And it’s the least I can do after you helped me through the storm the other day.”

Cas glanced back at the Lincoln for a brief moment, patting the warm handle before shuffling over to Dean’s Impala. “Alright, then. Thank you.”

Dean popped the door open and Castiel climbed in, pulling the seatbelt on as Dean tore down the driveway and onto the dirt road that lead to town, leaving their lake houses to exist as just specks in the rearview mirror.

“How’s your mother?” Castiel inquired, instantly remembering the night he watched Dean take care of her.

“She’s good. Today she seems to be in good shape so I’m not too worried about leaving her with Sam.”

“It must be a relief that Sam is so supportive.”

Dean raised a brow but nodded, turning back to the road. Castiel left the subject alone. Sam’s name had come up a few times but Dean hadn’t taken the time to expand on who Sam was to him, speaking as if Sam was an obvious extension of himself.

Castiel didn’t particularly feeling like prying in that moment. Was Sam short for Samantha? Was it his cousin? Sister? Brother? The idea of listening to Dean possibly go in depth about a potential partner made Castiel’s stomach uneasy, though he wasn’t really sure why.

“So how’s the writing going?” Dean asked, turning to Castiel briefly. The roads were beyond deserted. Cas was pretty sure that if Dean let go of the steering wheel and kept his foot on the pedal for the next 40 minutes they would still get to town in one piece.

“It goes,” Castiel hedged. “I’ve discovered this new writing method, actually.”

“Oh yeah? That’s great!” The genuine intrigue was not lost in Dean’s voice as he met Castiel’s blue eyes. “Lay it on me, man. What is it?”

Castiel leaned towards him, angling his body just so. He fixed Dean with the most intense stare he could muster under the sticky, withering heat in the Impala.

“Don’t tell my publishers.” He was met with an eager nod. “It’s called writing with invisible ink. I’ve filled dozens of pages already.”

The look was wiped away from Dean’s face as the words left Castiel’s mouth.

“Hardy-har-har,” Dean replied dryly, rolling his eyes. “You really had me going there for a second, Cas.”

Castiel shrugged and propped his head up with his hand, elbow resting on the ledge of the open window. “One of my few useless talents.”

“So how is the writing going _really_?” Dean pressed.

“Not well. I haven’t written anything down. I think I’m in trouble.”

“No kidding. I’m sure it will come to you soon though,” Dean nodded confidently.

Castiel hummed and stretched his fingers out the window, feeling the wind pass through and caress each digit. The air on his skin made it feel like the anxiety that consumed him during the writing process was blowing away behind them. He caught Dean eyeing the gesture.

The drive to town was an experience. After Cas spotted the shoebox full of cassette tapes under the passenger seat, Dean gave him a crash course on classic rock and the joys of Zeppelin. Half of it went over Cas’ head, but he enjoyed the mix of gritty guitars and experimental vocals and the way Dean excitedly skipped around from song to song.

“Listen to Jimmy Page wail on his guitar riiiiiiiight…. now!”

Dean would turn to Castiel to watch his reactions to his favourite parts; it was the same thing Cas would do to Anna whenever they were in the same place long enough for him to show her a new favourite movie.

Castiel found himself smiling not just at the similarity or the ecclectic collection of music, but at the sound of Dean’s deep laughter. It was the way his gooseberry green eyes crinkled at the corners whenever Castiel would nod that the song playing was indeed enjoyable to listen to. It was the smattering of freckles that decorated his delicate features - _like constellations_ , Castiel found himself thinking, though he would shake the errant thought away.

Even though Dean held a roughness about him - the kind of jagged edges that told Castiel he’d been through too much too young - he could tell Dean still kept a gentle soul. It was in the attentive way Dean listened when Castiel told him some of his favourite musicians in turn, his opinions about choice lyrics, and when Castiel told Dean how he remembered “Whole Lotta Love” playing at his prom and how it was followed immediately by “Bye Bye Bye” by N*SYNC.

“It was a dancehall full of confused, uncoordinated virgins,” Castiel recalled matter-of-factly, sending Dean into another spiral of laughter. “I think the juxtaposition was to encourage abstinence.”

Talking to Dean lifted a fog that Castiel hadn’t noticed had settled over his head. Although Dean was tied down to his circumstances and both of them felt trapped in the wide open nothing of the two lake house properties, something about Dean felt like freedom to Castiel.

Dean ended up following him around town instead of parting ways- or was Castiel following him? It was hard to stay focused even though the air between them was so comfortable - fluid.

“What else do you need?”

“A plotline would be great. Or a weapon of some sort. Do they sell guns here in Seattle like I hear they do in Kansas?”

Dean barked out his melodic laughter and practically cleared the shelf of baby food. “What else do you need from _the supermarket_ , Cas?”

Castiel picked up a jar of pasta sauce and placed it in his basket. “That’s it.”

“Great. Hand me that pecan pie, will you? Then we can head to checkout.”

Cas carefully passed over the pie, Dean’s fingers brushing over his as the box changed hands. Cas shook the fleeting stirring in his stomach and followed Dean to the checkout line, thanking him when he nudged Cas in line ahead of him.

When everything was paid for and loaded into the Impala, Castiel climbed back into the passenger seat and waited for Dean to finish returning his cart.

Cas had completely forgotten about his phone until it buzzed in his back pocket. He spared it a glance, the sinking feeling that had made a home in his chest making a reappearance once he saw _Zachariah_ , on the screen.

_Update on the Pulitzer-to-be?_

_In progress_ , Castiel texted back. His manager didn’t need to know that the move to Seattle was ineffective. _Mid-paragraph._

_Can’t wait to read what you have so far_

He shoved his phone back into his pocket, feeling the weight in his chest return. Castiel rested his forehead on the passenger’s side window, and it was all he could do not to try and put his head through it. Instead he let the cool glass soothe the rising heat of anxiety as he watched Dean walk back towards the Impala.

Dean immediately noticed the change when he slid into the car. He looked Castiel up and down, green eyes swift and analyzing. “You alright, Cas?”

“I’m fine, Dean.”

He didn’t look convinced, but he didn’t push.

When the pair got back from their excursion into town, Castiel thanked Dean as he helped unload Cas’ share of groceries. He offered to reciprocate, but Dean insisted that he would be fine and that Sam would lend him a hand this time around. At the mention of Sam, Castiel let the subject slide and retired to his lake house.

He perched himself back at his desk, glaring balefully at his typewriter. There was a hint of a spark in the back of his head, fragments of an idea that wouldn’t quite form. Castiel began by just getting those pieces out, despite the fact that they barely made sense when he read them back to himself later on.

Just as he was about to start up again, his breath left his body. Cas’ hands hovered over the keys of his typewriter as he painfully took note of the tired expression sewn onto Dean’s face at 2 AM.

He couldn’t tear his eyes away as he watched Dean take care of his mother again from the window. He didn’t expect to catch Dean awake again at such ungodly hours of the night but, from what he told Castiel on their supply run into town, he should haveinferred that she needed an abundance of attention.

Castiel turned away again when Dean moved to the foot of the bed with a diaper in hand, rubbing his eyes with the heels of his palms. He called it a night when he read the clock and slumped over into the couch, basking in his escape into unconsciousness.

-x-

It mustn’t have been more than an hour later when Cas awoke to knocking on his door. He cursed sleepily, hugging the pillow closer to his head.

One of the reasons Cas came out to the middle of nowhere was so that he would be able to remain undisturbed by anyone; every day he found that his reasons for moving to the lake house were becoming moot.

“Go away,” Castiel grumbled towards the front door, hoping his gravelly voice was loud enough to carry through.

“My bad, I’ll come back later.”

Castiel narrowed his eyes at the large, wooden door and contemplated sleeping on the couch for another couple of hours or seeing what Dean wanted.

“What do you want?” he tried.

When there was no response, Castiel whined incoherently as he pushed off the couch and stumbled to the door, blanket wrapped around his broad shoulders. He took a second to watch Dean retreating down his small gravel driveway before calling after him.

Dean turned, eyebrows raised. “Oh, hey, man, you didn’t have to come out.”

“Well, I’m out,” Cas grouched. “What is it?”

“It was nothing important,” Dean insisted, scratching the back of his neck. “It was dumb to bother you.”

Castiel’s wits and social ettiquette were coming back to him as it finally registered that Dean was in front of him, clearly in need, and Cas was selfishly thinking only of sleep.

He remembered what he had witnessed just hours ago and straightened up. “No, really, Dean, is something wrong? Is your mother okay?”

Dean shook his head. “My mom’s fine. It’s nothing like that.”

“Oh.” The tension in Cas’ spine relaxed but he couldn’t shake the concern in his wide eyes. “What is it then?”

Dean shook his head again and looked back towards his lake house before turning back to Castiel meekly.

“It’s nothing, man. I was just going to ask if you wanted to come with me while I run some errands today. I don’t know,” he added chucking nervously before waving Castiel off. “I guess it’s kinda stupid to ask someone if they _want_ to run errands. Go back to bed. Or to work. You probably have a full day ahead anyway, so maybe some other time or something.”

He continued down the driveway, throwing Cas one last apologetic look over his shoulder.

It took Castiel a minute to process what Dean had just said, but when it finally sunk in—

“Dean, wait! I’ll go with you.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Big big thank yous to everyone giving this little story a chance! You're all amazing humans and it warms the cockles of my heart <3 I love this fandom


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